


The New Prophecy

by gracefulhorse



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan, The Trials of Apollo - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Boarding School, Going off the prophecy from the end of ToN, Multi, Post-Canon, The Tower of Nero (Trials of Apollo) Spoilers, The Waystation (Percy Jackson), There will be more characters than this, but I only have a vague idea of the plot so far, idk how to rate it but the rating will be similar to canon, troglodytes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-19 10:27:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gracefulhorse/pseuds/gracefulhorse
Summary: The story of what comes after Tower of Nero. The plot is going to follow the prophecy that Nico and Will got at the end of the book, but also the lives of Meg, Nico, and Will after ToN. Meg and Nico go to mortal school together; Will is staying at the Waystation. Things probably won't be normal for very long.This will contain ToN spoilers. Feedback is appreciated!
Relationships: Meg McCaffrey & Her Adoptive Siblings, Nico di Angelo & Meg McCaffrey, Nico di Angelo/Will Solace, Will Solace & The Waystation Crew
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	1. Road Trip

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for clicking! I read ToN very quickly because I was getting kind of sick of Apollo, so if you notice I have any details from canon wrong, just let me know and I'll fix it because this is supposed to be canon-compliant/post-canon.
> 
> I'm hoping to update weekly--if you enjoy or have any criticism please leave a comment, feedback is very motivating!

Nico stares absentmindedly at the book propped up in front of him, the words slowly burning themselves into his mind, though he’s too distracted to even remotely comprehend what they mean. 

“You shall confess...you that... _ that you... _ are both decept… _ deceived... _ huh?” 

Reading out loud usually helps, but today, it’s all Greek to him. Well, no, actually—Greek would be helpful. It’s more like Spanish—the words fly by with a vague familiarity, but Nico can’t quite grasp what’s going on.

Even without dyslexia,  _ Julius Caesar  _ is a nightmare to understand. Add the stress of having to finish it, write an analytical essay on it, and then do your math homework before fall semester starts next week, and the task becomes Herculean. Make the workspace a tiny, cramped seat on a loud, bumpy Greyhound bus, and Nico might as well be trying to make his way back out of Tartarus again.

Factor in Nico’s companion, a fidgety thirteen-year-old girl clad in neon-green leggings and an equally-bright purple shirt, who is incapable of  _ not  _ providing a running verbal commentary on the cartoon she’s currently watching, and reading comprehension becomes flat-out impossible.

“Oh, no—no, watch out!  _ No, they got her!”  _

Nico tries to bring his attention back to the book.  _ “ _ Here...as I punt my sort... _ point _ my  _ sword _ ...the sun... _ argues?” _

“No, I don’t  _ care  _ what he’s doing, what’s happening to  _ her _ !”

“Could you be quiet for  _ five minutes,  _ Meg?” 

Nico doesn’t  _ mean  _ to snap—it’s just that he’s not nearly as invested in Avatar: The Last Airbender as Meg McCaffrey is, and he’s been stuck on the same page for the past hour and a half. He has been trying and failing to keep this infuriating child in her seat for the entire first day of this two-day bus ride; he really needs to pee, and at this rate, he’s going to fail out of Colonnade Preparatory Middle-High School before his first week is over.

Maybe he  _ does  _ mean to snap.

“Shut up, Dracula. They just captured  _ Toph,  _ and nobody else even knows about it yet!” There is disdain in her voice as she explains the importance of the show like it should be totally obvious to Nico, her voice ringing out loudly through the bus, earning a few dirty looks from other passengers.

Nico draws in a deep breath, twisting his skull ring around his finger in an attempt to calm himself down. He’d love nothing more than to argue with Meg for the rest of this bus ride, but anger never seems to shut her up.

It’s pretty hard to stop himself, though.

“I  _ told _ you not to call me Dracula,” he huffs.

Another flash of annoyance shoots through him as Meg snickers. “I thought it had a better ring to it than your other nicknames, but sorry,  _ Death Boy _ .”

Nico does not dignify Meg with a response, instead bringing his book back in front of his face, shaking the cover open so that she can hear the rustling of the pages as he pointedly ignores her.

“Oh, so it’s okay when Will says it, but not me?” 

Nico instantly regrets instigating this fight. His eyes dart to the screen of Meg’s tablet, looking for a distraction.

“No way, Meg, is Toph  _ metalbending?”  _

“ _ What?”  _ she screeches, both hands flying out to the tablet to bring it closer to her face. 

Nico breathes a small sigh of relief, burying his face in his hands and letting  _ Julius Caesar  _ fall to the ground beneath his feet. It lands on top of a discarded piece of chewing gum, making NIco wince. That stupid book deserves to be covered in all the questionable grime this bus has to offer, but now he’s going to have to touch it.  _ Ew. _

He shouldn’t even be on this agonizingly-slow bus right now, but Meg had stubbornly refused to let him shadow-travel them unless it was absolutely necessary, and he was only going to Kentucky because of her. 

About a month ago, Meg had reconnected with several of her adoptive siblings from her time with Nero. The three of them, Lucius, Aemilla, and Ahmed, had moved into the dorms at Colonnade Preparatory Middle-High School, and convinced her to come attend school with them. She’d done everything short of marching straight up to Olympus to convince Apollo to pay her tuition there—he finally agreed, on the condition that one of the older demigods go with her to keep her safe.

Nico had been trying to get into a real high school, anyway—he wasn’t planning on staying at Camp-Half Blood forever. Some of the older Athena kids ran a homeschool in their cabin for whoever wanted to attend, and once he’d caught up academically to his age group, Nico figured there was nothing keeping him there. Will had just moved into the Waystation in Indianapolis so that he could go to a nearby high school and get into college in a few years. Louisville was close enough to Indianapolis to shadow travel back and forth, so it all worked out.

(That is, if one’s definition of “things working out” is “getting saddled with the care of an obnoxious eighth-grader whose ADHD has ADHD.” Nico still isn’t sure.)

The bus’ brakes screech as the driver slowly brings it to a stop, and Nico’s eyes flick away from the page he’s still on, which might as well be blank at this point.

Through the window, he can see a flickering Sunoco sign over the convenience store of the gas station they’ve just pulled into. There was plenty of time to use the bathroom and buy snacks the last time they stopped, so when Meg grabs Nico’s sleeve and pulls him out of his seat towards the open door of the bus, he doesn’t protest.

Nico looks up at the sky as he stretches in the middle of the gas station parking lot, feeling the  _ pop  _ of vertebrae shifting into place as he twists his arms behind his back. The setting sun paints the clouds a thousand different shades of orange, purple, and pink, and although their destination is mundane, Nico feels the familiar thrill of being on an adventure.

Meg tugs him toward the rest stop store. “Hurry up, or they’ll leave us behind!”

\---

Meg’s mouth is stained hot-Cheeto orange when Nico finds her again, waiting for him just outside the bathroom.

“Did you pay for those?”

Meg shrugs. “I’m stealing from a corporation. Miranda said capitalism is hurting our planet, so technically I have the moral high ground.”

Nico swipes the bag of Cheetos from her with a loud sigh and stalks toward the register, glaring at Meg as she deposits several packs of gum and an enormous bottle of iced coffee on the counter. He stumbles through painfully awkward small talk with the cashier, wincing at his own social skills until he’s finally paid.

The cool night air is pleasant on his face as he and Meg step outside, walking back towards the bus, which is still refueling. Nico pauses in confusion as his eyes land on a group of birds sitting on the gas station roof. Their feathers glitter orange and red, almost like metal, but they don’t look like machines.

He turns to Meg, laying a hand on her arm to stop her from walking any closer.

“Are those phoenixes? I didn’t know phoenixes moved in flocks.”

“Huh?” 

“I said, are those phoenixes? Sitting up on the canopy over the gas pump.”

Meg’s eyes widen when they land on the birds, and terror is evident on her face as she lets loose a string of expletives entirely inappropriate for a thirteen-year-old. “Nope, not phoenixes.” She grabs Nico’s sleeve again and pulls them both against the wall of the rest stop, a poor attempt at camouflage.

Nico reaches for his sword, which he’s made an attempt at concealing under his windbreaker. “What are they?”

_ “Shhh!” _

“What  _ are they?”  _ Nico’s voice is loud enough to startle the birds off the canopy. One of them hurtles toward them like a missile, narrowly missing Nico’s shoulder and slamming into the building behind them, tearing a hole straight through the brick wall. The rest of them don’t seem to be far behind.

“They’re Stymphalian birds. Nero used to make us train with them. Their beaks are made of Celestial bronze, they’re like knives. I’ve never had to fight a flock this huge.” Meg’s voice wavers as she recounts her training, but Nico doesn’t have time to hear the details. He leaps forward to avoid another bird, raising his sword up in front of him to defend himself.

Meg is still frozen to the spot.

“Don’t just stand there! Help me!” Nico shouts to Meg, who is standing behind him, still wearing a panic-stricken expression.

“My scimitars are in one of the suitcases under the bus! I’m not carrying any weapons!”

The stupidity of a demigod traveling unarmed on a road trip through places unknown is so great that Nico has half a mind to turn around and scream at Meg. The other, more persuasive, half of his mind wants to avoid being pecked to death.

He dodges one of the birds as it comes hurtling towards him, his sword slicing straight through its long, bronze-feathered neck. With a screech, it explodes in mid-air, leaving him choking on monster dust. Reeling, he tries to catch his breath. He still hasn’t made a dent in the massive flock.

“ _ Duck!”  _ Meg yells, and Nico obeys just in time to hear the whistling of a projectile flying over, rather than through, his head.

“What in Hades’ name was  _ that?” _

“I forgot!” Meg drops to the ground to avoid another one of the projectiles. “They have super sharp Celestial bronze feathers, and they can shoot them!”

“Oh, great! Anything else you forgot to tell me?” Nico sidesteps another bird as it flies toward him. It corrects its flight path too late, and explodes into dust as it makes contact with the pavement.

“I think their poop is poisonous, too, so make sure you don’t eat any!”

Nico rolls his eyes and brings his effort toward a different strategy, hovering his hands over the ground in front of him. His skin goes even paler than normal and he almost stumbles to the ground with the effort of pulling the bones of at least a dozen assorted animal skeletons out of the ground.

He orders them into formation and they fan out, creating a protective circle around him and Meg. He’s used skeleton soldiers too many times to count: to fight in the Battle of Manhattan, to defend himself in Tartarus, to trap Lycaon when all else failed. They shouldn’t break a sweat (break a bone?) against a bunch of birds, or at least that’s what Nico hopes.

What he’s failed to consider is that the Celestial bronze of the Stymphalian birds’ beaks and feathers is a lot stronger than the bones of your garden-variety gas station parking lot skeletons. Within seconds, the entire formation has crumbled to pieces, and Nico is back to slashing at the birds with his sword whenever they come within range. 

“Meg, there’s a tree on the other side of the parking lot! If we can get over there, can you make it into some sort of shield?”

Meg does not respond, and Nico lets out a sharp exhale of annoyance. He may be here to help her, but she’s not a baby. She’s perfectly capable of fighting, too!

One of the birds hurtles directly into his sword, and Nico feels a rush of satisfaction as it explodes into yet another cloud of rusty brown dust.

That satisfaction is dampened when Nico realizes two things:

One, that the bird’s arrowhead beak making contact with the Stygian iron of his sword has folded the supposedly indestructible metal over on itself, rendering it useless.

Two, that Meg is not right behind him anymore. She’s halfway to the tree he was talking about, but there’s something she doesn’t see, and Nico doesn’t see it either, not until it’s too late.

The parking lot is alive with the cacophony of screeching birds, the panicked yelling of the mortals inside the bus, and the snapping of bronze feathers against the asphalt. But somehow, it’s still quiet enough for Nico to hear the dull  _ thunk  _ of one of the razor-sharp feathers tearing into Meg’s gut. It’s quiet enough for him to hear her muffled yelp, the scrape of her shoes as she falls to the ground.

He sprints toward her, twisted sword still in hand, and already he can see a pool of blood spreading out beneath her.

_ “Meg!” _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stymphalian birds sound made up, but they're not, lol.
> 
> Feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading! :)


	2. Eos

Meg’s vision is hazy and fractured as her eyes blink open and closed, trying to make sense of her situation as she drifts closer and closer toward unconsciousness. She’s too stunned to feel any pain other than the road burn on her arms, but she can feel the warmth, smell the metallic tang, of blood spreading out under her as she lays prone on the pavement.

Another feather misses her face by inches. She tries to turn her head and see where it stuck into the ground, but she can’t get her muscles to cooperate.

Meg is vaguely aware of Nico standing over her, and even in her muddled state of mind she can understand his dilemma. He’s probably strong enough to shadow-travel them away from here, but leaving provides no guarantee that these vicious birds won’t just kill the bus full of mortals they’ve been traveling with today. She hears sharp clanging as the birds’ projectiles bury themselves into the bus, now damaged past the point of operability.

A wave of nausea hits Meg as she begins to feel the pain of her wound, and it’s intensified by the familiarity of this situation.

Three years ago, during Nero’s ruthless training program, the exact same thing happened to one of her adoptive siblings.

Meg and Ruthie, a daughter of Dionysus, were inseparable from the day Meg came to stay with Nero. Ruthie was the only thing that made living with Nero bearable. She was Meg’s best friend.

The Beast—no,  _ Nero _ —had noticed their close friendship eventually, and began to question their loyalty to him. Fighting these birds was their chance to prove themselves worthy, to calm the Beast. It seemed perfectly easy; it seemed like a good idea. Until it wasn’t.

Like Meg, Ruthie was a fighter. Like Meg, she was forced to battle unarmed the day Nero unleashed the Stymphalian birds in their training room.

Like Meg, she was left to bleed out on the ground when she failed.

Her memory of Ruthie is the only thing anchoring Meg in the realm of consciousness right now. She’s scared, exhausted, and in pain, but if she closes her eyes, she knows exactly where she’ll go.

She can’t let that happen. She can’t see Ruthie again so soon.

Still shifting in and out of focus, Meg’s eyes land on a tiny dandelion growing out of a crack in the pavement just in front of her face. She’s managed to make a dandelion fight for her before—it’s a long shot, but maybe she can do it again this time.

With the last of her strength, she extends her power out to the tiny shoot in front of her, trying to coax it forward, make it fight. Frustration blooms hot in her chest when it withers and dies in front of her eyes, crumbling into black dust. 

_ How does that even happen?  _ Meg’s never killed a plant before. Even in her weakened state, it’s an affront to her parentage.

It’s a moment later, when the cloud of darkness gathering around Nico is big enough for her to see, that Meg realizes she’s not the one who killed it.

The birds begin dissipating into dust, dropping to the ground in explosions of metal feathers, as the dark cloud intensifies, curling up into the air like a deadly cyclone.

Still facedown, Meg can’t see Nico, but she can see the remains of the birds falling all around her, coating her in a fine layer of monster dust. It’s nasty, but it’s not even close to her biggest problem right now. 

She knows what happens when Nico overuses his powers, and this is bigger than anything she’s seen him do before. He might be decimating the flock with a ruthless efficiency, but Meg’s not sure it’s worth whatever the cost will be.

She feels the rumbling of an explosion as Nico loses control, hears the smashing of the Greyhound bus as it’s tipped over onto the pavement by the force of the cyclone. And now she can see Nico, collapsed on the ground beside her, his skin so pale it could be transparent.  _ Is it? _

“Should...have just...shadow...traveled…” is the last thing Meg hears before her vision finally fades to black.

\---

“Wait, so why are you in beginner French class, then?” Will shoots his new friend, Nathalie, a look of confusion as she snickers conspiratorially, reaching toward him to steal some of his food.

“Normally my grades are mediocre at best, and I wanted a GPA boost, so I just keep it a secret from Madame Baxter that I speak French at home, and I intercept the letter whenever they send out the form to arrange parent-teacher conferences.”

Will grins with laughter. “I wish I thought of that! I speak Greek; I thought it was so cool that they teach it at Center High.”

“Well, we can’t all have genius ideas,” Nathalie teases. “Is your family Greek, then?”

“Uhhh…” Will scrambles for an explanation, opting for a modified version of the truth. “I don’t know. I haven’t lived with my mom since I was really young, but a lot of the foster siblings I grew up with spoke it.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I thought Emmie was your mom?” Nathalie shifts uncomfortably, obviously unsure whether Will is about to share some tragic backstory with her.

“Nah, she and her wife Jo are sort of my foster moms right now, and they’re Georgina’s adoptive moms. Georgie’s my biological sister, though. Or I think she is, at least. I think we share a dad. He’s in our lives. Sort of.” Will cringes at his stilted explanation, unsure how to explain the awkward dynamic between Apollo and the Waystation crew.

Will has lived year-round at Camp Half-Blood since he was seven, so he’s not used to having to conceal his true identity around friends. Combine that with his reputed status as a chronic oversharer, and he’s shocked he hasn’t straight-up told Nathalie he’s a demigod already.

“Huh. That sounds complicated.” Nathalie seems intrigued, but she doesn’t pry.

The mid-September weather is the perfect medium between summer and fall. Will reclines in his beach chair, working on his second bag of potato chips, as he watches Georgina splash in the lake a little ways away. Emmie has just dropped them all off at the lake just outside the city, giving Will and Nathalie a ride in exchange for some babysitting.

Will’s been living at the Waystation and attending Indianapolis Center High for a few weeks now. He’s already made a few friends (to no one’s surprise), his grades are decent, and Nico’s due to visit in a few days once he’s moved into the dorm in Louisville with Meg. Things are pretty good.

Nathalie points across the grassy shore at Georgina, her eyebrows furrowing into an expression of concern. “You might want to get her away from there. I don’t know whose dog that is that she’s petting.”

Will moves his gaze away from the water and back toward Georgina, who is currently petting—Oh, Zeus’ beard, that’s definitely not a dog.

_ “Georgina!” _ Will shouts, closing the distance between them in a dead sprint. He pulls her away by the hand and starts back up the shore, hoping that whatever that thing is, it doesn’t try to follow them. 

“Put—me—down!” Georgina tries to wiggle away from Will, giggling as she reaches back towards the strange creature, which appears to be a glittering silver horse standing at the edge of the lake.

Will sets her down in the beach chair next to Nathalie once they’ve reached a safe distance. There’s a startled look on Nathalie’s face, surprised by the severity of his reaction. Will is at a loss for how to reprimand Georgina without conveying the message to Nathalie that he’s entirely lost his mind.

“Don’t pet strange dogs, okay? They could be dangerous.”

“It’s not a dog! It’s Lampos!”

Nathalie shoots Will a confused look, but he is too distracted by the familiarity of the name to try and offer her an explanation.

“Lampos?”

“Eos’ horse! He said she was looking for you, Will!”

It all clicks together, and Will’s blood runs cold. 

Eos, the Titaness of dawn, is nearby. She may not have fought against them in the Titan War, but she is dangerous nonetheless. Before the Olympians, she had opened the gates for Helios’ sun chariot each morning, but Apollo had forced her to relinquish her role to Artemis. Will imagines that Eos’ resulting vendetta against the sun god could easily extend to his children.

“We need to leave.  _ Now.”  _ He scoops Georgina out of the chair and immediately begins jogging away from the beach. His hand flies to the pendant Jo gave him when he arrived at the Waystation—a panic button of sorts that sends her its location when pressed. His thumb digs into it, activating the distress signal.

Nathalie runs after them. “What the hell are you doing, Will? You’re just going to leave all our stuff?”

“I don’t have time to explain! Stay on the beach, it’s not safe for you to be near us!”

Nathalie ignores the warning, and Will quickens his run. “I’m serious, Nathalie! Stay away!”

But it doesn’t matter, anyway, because Will and Georgina have not even reached the gravel parking lot before they crash straight into the Titaness. 

Eos’ sparkling silver tunic is reminiscent of her horse’s hide. Glowing droplets of dew float like diamonds in the air around her, and her lips are pressed into a thin line of disapproval as Will crashes to the ground at her feet, taking Georgina tumbling down with him.

“Please, my lady, have merc—”

“Oh,  _ calm down.  _ I’m not going to hurt you.”

Will looks up at the goddess, confusion evident on his face, as she reaches a hand downward to help him to his feet. Her hand is cold and smooth, like an ancient river rock worn down by the current to a polished shine. Georgina seems unbothered, trailing her hand through Eos’ dewy aura as she watches the exchange with interest.

“You—you’re not angry with us?”

A displeased noise emanates from the back of the goddess’ throat. “Unlike  _ your  _ near ancestors, I am not needlessly vengeful to those who have not wronged me. No, that is not why I am here, son of Apollo.” More dew issues from Eos’ lips as she speaks, leaving puddles of moisture in the grass beneath them.

“The reason I am here is to discuss a relative of mine. Iapetus.”

“ _ Oh, no.” _

“Oh, yes. Did you think you could ignore the prophecy forever? I’m not sure how long you would have had otherwise, but I’m here to hasten the process along. My husband, Astraios, is beginning to fade from human memory, and such a fading has pushed him to the brink of death. The Olympians are of no help to me, so I need the help of Iapetus, Titan of mortality, to free him from this realm.”

Will’s eyes narrow with confusion. “You want to kill your husband?”

Eos sighs deeply. “We have not been on friendly terms for many eons. When Astraios is faded and gone, his power will pass on to me. I no longer rule the dawn—my only remaining domain is of the dew and frost, and even that is shared with others. If I myself don’t wish to fade, this is the only way to remain in this world.”

“Oh.”

“Back to Iapetus,” Eos redirects sharply, “I need him back here. Out of the pit. I myself do not wish to pay dear Tartarus a visit, and it’s not my place to, in any case. That’s why I came to find you.”

“Oh, great.” Will had not wanted to deal with this so soon. There was no timeline on the prophecy that he and Nico had received by the campfire several months earlier, so they had been planning to procrastinate on it for as long as possible, preferably until they were both dead and unable to visit Tartarus.

“I can offer you two manners of help. The first is my garb.” Will awkwardly averts his eyes as Eos removes her sparkling tunic, but underneath she is clothed in jeans and a plain white t-shirt. The more normal outfit does nothing to make her look less strangely ethereal.

She extends the tunic to Will, who takes it in his hands and examines it closely. It has shrunk to about the size of a handkerchief, and he knots it around his wrist, looking to Eos for approval.

“This was a wedding gift from my sister, Selene, many millennia ago. Her power has since been usurped by the  _ Olympians,”  _ Eos mutters disdainfully, “but the gift still holds its original enchantment. As long as you are wearing it, you will possess a watered-down version of Selene’s control over insanity. The power feeds off your own life-force, so use caution. And keep in mind, I have gifted this to  _ you.  _ Do not let anyone else use it, or there will be consequences.”

Will nods, running his fingers over the fabric. It is silky and cool, almost like woven water. “Thank you.”

“My second piece of advice is this: Scrap your previous plan to enter the pit. The price the cave-runners will demand for passage into Tartarus will be a price you cannot afford to pay.”

He nods again, and can’t help but feel a rush of relief coursing through him. Despite having Nico’s protection in the caves, the troglodytes terrify him to no end. Will would be downright thrilled to never see them again.

“That will be all, then. Please return Iapetus to me by the summer, or there will be consequences.” Eos turns away from Will and moves her gaze to Georgina, who has slipped away again and is petting Lampos. The glittering horse is grazing calmly a few yards away, appearing to enjoy the attention. 

“I suggest you keep a closer eye on the child. Not every creature she stumbles across will be as friendly as Lampos is.”

“Sorry.” Will grins sheepishly, watching Georgina as she murmurs something to the magical horse. The tension that was thick in the air several moments earlier has begun to dissolve, much to his relief. “Little sisters, right?”

“Oh, she is not your sister. Tell her she is welcome to come ride Lampos whenever she wishes.”

“Wait, what do you—”

But before Will can finish his sentence, Eos and Lampos have dissolved into thin air, leaving nothing but a boggy puddle of grass to indicate they were ever even there.

Will stands there, dumbstruck, for a few seconds, his bare feet sinking into the mushy ground, before a hand on his shoulder snaps him back to reality.

He’d forgotten about Nathalie.

“ _ What the hell was that?” _

Nathalie seems shaken, her voice simultaneously terrified and accusatory as she demands an explanation.

“Ummm...You tell me?” Will’s voice wavers as he remembers his mortal friend. He has no idea how much of that she saw.

Nathalie draws in a deep breath, her attention turning to a car that’s screeching into the parking lot much faster than it really should be.

“Your foster mom’s here. You can explain in the car.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed!
> 
> My characterization of Will in this chapter felt a little off to me so if anybody's figured out what it is, let me know lol.


	3. The Hospital and Hell

Meg’s eyes blink open to the harsh, fluorescent lighting of a hospital. 

The environment is immediately made even more jarring by the voice of her sister, Aemilla.

“Meggie! You’re awake!”

Meg groans. “Don’t call me Meggie. I feel like I got run over by a truck. The least you could do is not call me Meggie.”

Aemilla rolls her eyes but doesn’t protest.

“I’m so glad you’re awake. I had a hard time convincing the man at the front desk that I was your guardian. When he comes back, you can help me talk to him, yeah?”

Aemilla has just turned eighteen, and although she’ll only be a senior in high school this year, she’s assumed guardianship over Meg, Nico, Ahmed, and Lucius. It makes things easier, especially for Meg, who is quite accustomed to disregarding her every word.

Meg shifts into a sitting position in the uncomfortable hospital bed, scanning her surroundings. One of her brothers, Ahmed, is standing behind Aemilla, but Lucius is nowhere to be found.

“Where’s Luc?” she whispers, worry creeping into her voice.

“He’s just downstairs, grabbing us fries. He’ll be back in a little bit.”

Looking over her shoulder to make sure none of the nurses are watching, Aemilla covertly slips a flask into Meg’s hand.

“Nectar,” she whispers. “This’ll help more than whatever they have you on.”

Meg unscrews the cap and sips gratefully, then lowers the flask to tease her sister. “It would look less suspicious to just put it in a cup. It’s not like you’re giving me alcohol.”

Aemilla huffs with annoyance, wrenching the flask from Meg’s grip to slip it back into the inner pocket of her coat. “You’re  _ welcome _ .” Her voice is hard, but Meg can detect a hint of a smile in her eyes.

Their brother, Ahmed, interrupts the exchange, slipping in front of Aemilla to take Meg’s hand in his own.

“How are you feeling, Meg?” His voice is softer than Aemilla’s, which is true to Meg’s memory. Despite being a son of Ares, Ahmed has always been kind to his siblings.

“I’m alright.” Meg shrugs. “It hurt like Hades, though. Did the doctors say anything to you about how long this’ll take to recover?”

Ahmed smiles and squeezes her hand. “You lost a lot of blood because of the projectile, but they managed to repair the damage in surgery, so you’ll be fine. They said you should be up and walking within a couple weeks.”

“Oh, great. That means tomorrow!” Meg grins wickedly. He sighs and rolls his eyes, but he knows better than to argue with the force of nature that is Meg.

“This shouldn’t have happened in the first place,” Aemilla growls. “That Hades kid was supposed to protect you. What was he even doing?”

Even though her older sister’s anger is on her behalf, it still makes Meg flinch. Aemilla’s breath, like her father, Hephaestus’, bellows, is scorching-hot and smoky with anger, making Meg cough.

“It’s not Nico’s fault. He was fighting them practically all on his own.” Meg decides not to mention the reason for that—hearing that her little sister was traveling unarmed would probably not do much to improve Aemilla’s mood. “He saved me after the birds shot me down. Is he okay?”

Aemilla’s frown deepens, the bright lighting of the hospital room spilling strange shadows over the creases of her face. “What do you mean? I asked around and they said no one fitting his description was brought to the hospital. I thought he ran away and left you on your own.”

Immediately, Meg throws her legs over the edge of the hospital bed and leaps to her feet. Bright spots of white dance in her vision, and the nectar she’s just consumed threatens to make its way back up.

Ahmed grabs both her arms to steady her on her feet. “Whoa, calm down!”

“We can’t—he’s—we need to—” In her sudden panic, Meg stumbles over her words.

“Deep breaths, Meg. What is it?” Ahmed’s dark brown eyes are wide with concern as Meg stutters and hyperventilates.

“N-Nico. He’s in trouble. He was on the ground right next to me, but when he overuses his powers he starts fading. The mortals there—they wouldn’t have found him. We need to go back to that gas station.”

Ahmed exchanges a concerned look with Aemilla before she responds. “There’s no  _ we  _ in this situation, Meg. Ahmed and I will go back and look for him, but you need to stay here and rest, or you’ll end up back here again.”

Ignoring Meg’s squeak of protest, Aemilla sweeps her off her feet and sets her back on the hospital bed, the thick muscles of her arms flexing under her sister’s weight. “Don’t try and follow us. I don’t need a dead sister on top of all this.”

Their eyes meet in shock as Aemilla realizes exactly what she’s just said. “I didn’t—I wasn’t thinking about—”

“It’s fine. Drop it.” Meg’s voice is dull and dark. “I’ll let you guys be. Just go find Nico.  _ Now.” _

\---

So this is how it ends. Fading into nothingness in a gas station parking lot in Middle of Nowhere, Pennsylvania.

It’s not how Nico would have chosen to go, he thinks absently, but whatever part of him is supposed to care is already gone, floating in the thick haze of monster dust that still hangs above whatever is left of his physical body.

The last ambulance left a long time ago, but there are still people around—rubberneckers, police, and employees of a towing company, who are slowly disassembling the totaled bus. Someone’s foot kicks straight through Nico’s chest as they walk past him, and he’s vaguely aware of it, but he feels nothing.

The cold from the pavement below him slowly seeps into his skin, and he should be shivering, but he can’t move at all, can’t close his mouth, can’t even blink.

Nico’s mind drifts to the bus, thinking of his suitcase still sitting in the luggage compartment. He’d taken plenty of nectar and ambrosia from the infirmary at Camp-Half Blood, and it was sitting right there, less than thirty yards away from him. He might not be fully material right now, but it could still probably save his life.

If only he could move.

He wonders what’s happening to Meg right now. There was an awful lot of blood, and the dark stain is still there next to him, not yet fully absorbed into the ground.

He should be angry with her right now, for refusing to shadow travel, for not wearing her scimitar rings, but all Nico can muster up is a dark, all-consuming apathy. He’s confused by how little he cares—he’s about to die, after all—but he does nothing about it, content to observe with detached interest as his vision fades further and further toward darkness.

His eyes fall passively shut, and he feels himself stop breathing, and Nico knows that when he opens his eyes again, he’ll be in his room in his father’s palace, or maybe in Elysium, or maybe even in Asphodel, but the main point is that in a minute, it’ll all be over.

He’s halfway right—When his eyes finally blink open again, he’s not in Pennsylvania anymore.

But he’s not in the Underworld, either.

Immediately, Nico’s indifference dissipates, and his heart sinks further than he’s ever felt it go before. 

“Akhlys?” 

The goddess, crumpled into a ball on the floor of Tartarus, seems surprised by Nico’s entrance, whirling around to greet him. An amused expression, wholly uncharacteristic of the goddess of misery, spreads across her bloody face.

“Oh! If it isn’t the son of Hades, in the flesh. Or—in the spirit, I suppose. What happened to you?” Akhlys’ delight is tempered by the scraping and gurgling of a thousand forms of plague and famine in her voice.

“I shouldn’t be in Tartarus.” Nico’s voice is carefully flat and emotionless—revealing his panic would only make things worse. “Why am I in Tartarus?”

Seemingly against her own will, Akhlys’ body, sitting upright on the ground, snaps downward, her screeching sobs muffled against the ground. The goddess grumbles with annoyance as she claws herself back to a sitting position.

“Spirits don’t go to the Underworld, not if they don’t die normally,” Akhlys snaps, her voice wavering and her throat thick with tears. “They go to wherever they have business unresolved. Haven’t you ever seen a Lare?”

She swipes at him suddenly, droplets of green poison flying off her desiccated fingers and hissing on the ground where they fall, burning tiny holes into the ground. Nico doesn’t jump away in time, but her arm swipes straight through him.  _ Thank the gods.  _

“You can’t hurt me. I’m a ghost.” Nico’s voice is dark and bitter. “Haven’t you ever seen a Lare?” he mocks.

Instead of engaging him, Akhlys lets out a laugh, a shuddering, wheezing sound, not unlike gravel scraping across a chalkboard. Nico flinches at the familiarity of it. 

The goddess’ face twists into a bloody grin. “I’m glad to have you back, son of Hades. You give old Akhlys a run for her money.”

Nico lets out of a huff of frustration and turns on his heel, panic making his throat feel tight. He stares down at the ground as he strides away from Akhlys—he can’t see Tartarus again. He just can’t.

Though he’s been walking straight, he comes back upon Akhlys almost immediately. 

The goddess fixes him with a look that is unreadable through the tortured contortions of her face.

“You’ll be down here forever, you know. Misery only strengthens the parts of this place that you hate the most. And misery is all you’re made of.”

“That’s not true.”

“Hmm.” Akhlys turns away from Nico, taking her time with her response. “Perhaps it wasn’t always, but it is now. Perhaps it could have changed, but it won’t now.”

The puddles of poison surrounding them quiver as the goddess draws in another raspy, shuddering breath. 

“I wasn’t always the goddess of misery, you know. Before the time of mortals, before the Olympians, I was the goddess of nothing. Of the quiet of nighttime, of stagnant bodies of water, of the flow of your breath when you’re not thinking about it.”

She waits for Nico to prompt her further. 

“What happened?” His voice is quiet. 

“Misery.”

Akhlys doesn’t elaborate, but Nico thinks he understands. 

“Still. That’s not true.”

“What’s not true?”

“You said that misery is all I’m made of. That’s not true.”

Nico looks away from Akhlys, wincing, as he is met with another sickening smile. 

“I believe you are mistaken.”

And then Nico has an idea.

\---

Terrifyingly uncertain of his own actions, Nico reaches downward to lay a hand on Akhlys’ shoulder. He’s surprised when it actually makes contact, the toxicity of her body stinging painfully even in his spirit form.

“I’m not mistaken.” He lets his eyes fall shut. He’s not sure exactly what will happen next, but he knows he needs to prove her wrong. He needs to defeat her.

When Nico opens his eyes, he’s sitting at the campfire at Camp Half-Blood. The familiar stone bench digs into his back uncomfortably, but he can see that Rachel’s face is clear of the presence of Python, and Apollo, freshly un-Lester-ized, is being a lot less annoying than usual, and Will’s arm over his shoulder is sunshine-warm, and if that’s not happiness, what is?

This goddess is not used to joy. Hephaestus can withstand ice, Aphrodite can withstand ugliness, even Hades can withstand life. But for nearly her entire existence, misery is all Akhlys has known, and Nico’s memories are more corrosive than her poison, melting holes straight through her as she shrieks with surprise. Nico squeezes his eyes shut again and clamps his hand down even harder on her shoulder, resisting the urge to let her go.

He frantically combs through his mind again, and then he’s in one of the strawberry fields at Camp Half-Blood, an affectionate annoyance coursing through him because Reyna has just thrown an overripe strawberry at his face.

Then he’s walking through New Rome, sharing a hot chocolate with his newfound sister for the first time, watching her reel at the enormity of the city. Gold and gemstones pop out of the ground in Hazel’s joyful wake, and Nico doesn’t have the fine control that she does, so he spreads his arms and watches the stones disappear into a huge rift in the ground, and Hazel shrieks with laughter and smacks the side of his head, bemoaning the ruined cobblestones.

Next is a more recent memory, from this summer. Nico and Kayla are out on the canoe lake together. It’s a sunny day, calm, quiet, and perfect, except for the fact that they’re not rowing for fun, but trying to capsize Will and Meg’s canoe. (Nico won’t admit to anyone that he and Kayla  _ lost  _ that day—they just got bored and decided to go swimming.  _ Right, Kayla? _ )

Then he’s hugging Jason. Chatting with Piper. Walking away from Percy. Punching Leo. Sneaking through a Venezuelan Cheez-Whiz factory with Will. 

Nico’s memories flash by too fast to even keep track of, each one wearing away at Akhlys more and more. After recalling a particularly enlightening conversation with Mr. D, Nico’s eyes settle on the goddess again. 

He immediately flinches at what he’s done. His memories have eaten through her like acid, leaving nothing but her head staring up at him from the ground.

Akhlys’ voice is surprisingly clear when her disembodied head finally speaks. “You have proven me wrong.”

There is a long silence before the goddess speaks again. There is a swirl of dust on the ground as Akhlys’ body slowly reforms, her neck reforming at an ant’s crawl. Nico shifts nervously, the squishy, too-soft ground of Tartarus reminding him exactly where he is. He’s not sure he has enough memories left to keep fighting her if he needs to.

“You have not defeated me. I will reform.”

Akhlys’ voice is quietly livid, and Nico’s heart sinks.

Until the goddess speaks again.

“But I want you gone from here. I  _ need  _ you gone from here.”

“Where can I even go? It’s like you said: I have unfinished business here. I can’t finish it, so I can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can.” 

Nico is not sure he has ever heard such anger in a goddess’ voice.

“I can send you back.”

Akhlys’ hand, partially formed and still detached from her body, points up at Nico, and a sickly-green ball of light floats toward him. He’s not sure whether or not he should dodge it, but after a moment it’s too late. The goddess’ life force sinks into his chest.

“Take care, son of Hades: If you ever return here, I will end you for eternity.”

Nico opens his mouth to respond, the ball of light sending what feels like electric shocks through his entire incorporeal body. But before he can make a sound, he is gone.

\---

The gas station parking lot is colder than Nico remembers.

Maybe that’s what happens when you’ve just come out of Tartarus.

He’s still in the same position he fell to the ground in, but now he can feel his injuries, can feel where one of the birds’ arrows pierced him in the leg, can feel his face scraped raw against the pavement.

Nico hears a shout from one of the mortals, and soon a group of them is jogging toward him, their faces all twisted into identical expressions of concern.

“Shit! They forgot someone!” one of them shouts, and then someone is touching him, grabbing under his arms, and his lungs burn from not breathing, and the pain of being moved sends white-hot fire jolting down every nerve ending in his body, but—they can see him. He is alive. His arms swing around as the mortals each carry a section of his limp body, and when his eyes shift into focus and see them, they are mottled and blue, but he is alive.

Nico twitches, trying to move his muscles, trying to speak, but all he can manage is a huge, gasping breath.

As his senses and thoughts slowly return to him, as he regains awareness of the events leading up to all this, there is just one thought in Nico’s mind:

_ I am going to kill you, Meg. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how to slow the pace of my writing so there was a LOT happening there in that relatively short chapter. Oh well.
> 
> I am a relatively slow writer, so it will probably be a few days to a week before the next update, but I find comments super motivating, so please leave one if you enjoyed! :)


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